Lunch breaks are best when spent writing. 😉
Much about the way I write has changed considerably over the years. When I was a teenager, I often wrote with my friends (several of whom also enjoyed writing), and we wrote anytime, anywhere. I wrote stories during free time in class, at lunch, during pickleball tournaments, and at home after school. Often in the summers, I’d stay up half the night working on a story. Whether with music and conversation or without, in the living room or my bedroom, my ideas flowed freely.
Hot tea makes great writing fuel, especially in the winter.
In my twenties, it was much the same. I had a small office space, but it shared room with my washer, dryer, deep freeze, and litterboxes. With four cats and one litterbox, you can bet it wasn’t long before I needed to take a little writing break, so back to the living room I went.
My twenties actually saw the greatest upheaval
As promised, my review of Lambent Dreams. What’s it about? Poetry. Plain and simple:
Suddenly they all died. The end. 